100 Moments
by ImNotSpeakingToYou
Summary: 100 bits of Ron and Hermione. Past, present and future. Drabbles, ficlets and other fluff.
1. Beginnings

Ron fumes as the bushy-haired girl exits the train compartment.

Who does she think she is, embarrassing him like that in front of _Harry Potter_, of all people? Harry doesn't seem to mind though. He didn't seem to like the girl much either, a fact that makes Ron like him even more.

He can't remember her name. It was something odd, that's all he can remember. It doesn't matter anyway. He's going to be in Gryffindor (although a part of him worries that he won't) and a swotty know-it-all like that is bound to be in Ravenclaw, so he doesn't think he has to worry about her too much.


	2. Middles

"I'm fat," Hermione says and Ron nearly falls out of his chair because Hermione is not a woman who has fussed about how she looks, ever. Not that he thinks there's anything to fuss about. She's always been perfect to him.

"You're pregnant," he says.

"Hmm," she says but she's barely paying attention to him. Her eyes are glued to the mirror and she's frowning as she runs her hands down her stomach, across her sides, gliding over a shirt that is, perhaps, a shade too tight across the middle.

"Well, I think you're gorgeous," Ron says.

She turns to him with shining eyes and a watery smile. "Do you?"

"I do. Waddle over here and I'll show you."

Pregnancy, he discovers, has done little to quell his wife's temper.


	3. Ends

"What're you doing?"

She jumps. She's sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, peering into a mirror with a pair of small scissors in her hand. He's lying in his bunk, the locket hot and heavy against his chest. He's slept, he must have, but he feels foggy and confused like he hasn't slept a wink.

"I'm trimming my hair," she says, holding a lock between two fingers. "It's getting so long, I have all these split ends. It's getting out of control."

He nearly laughs. Her hair is _always_ out of control, it has been since he met her. There's only been two times she's been able to control it in all the years he's known her and he doesn't like those days, not just because of stupid _Krum _but because her hair is meant to be wild and crazy and he loves it like that.

But he doesn't know how to tell her. _She wouldn't care anyway_, the locket whispers to him.

"Oh," he says instead and turns back toward the wall.


	4. Insides

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

She wasn't even going to give birth today, it had just been a checkup, but then there was something about heart rates and movement and surgery and now there are Hermione's _insides_, he can see them, and there's blood on the mediwizard's sleeve and their slow, quiet mumbling has gotten louder and faster of late, more frantic and less controlled. There are more people in the room now too, steering him back away from her, saying stupid things like _don't worry_ and _this is_ _perfectly normal_ when he knows damn well that it isn't.

He can't think about Rose, back at home with her grandparents, or even the baby they pulled out of Hermione moments ago before everything went off the rails. A boy, they told him. Perfectly healthy, but he can't think about that right now because all he can see is her, and her insides, and her pale, strained face.


	5. Outsides

The outside of the Granger house is gray and uniform and intimidating. The small yard is perfectly manicured, with short grass and perfectly symmetrical rosebushes on either side of the neat, paved path. Not like the Burrow at all, with its mismatching pieces scattered all across the property. Ron swallows and suddenly feels very inadequate.

He hasn't really had that much to do with the Grangers. A few casual meetings around the Hogwarts Express but they'd only been friends then and his whole family had been there to distract them. He'd seen them briefly in Australia after Hermione had restored their memories, but they'd been so raw and confused by everything that had happened so, at Hermione's tearful request, Ron and Harry had headed back to England after just a few short hours.

He's certainly never met the Grangers as their daughter's boyfriend.

But he's been dating Hermione for awhile now and she's decided that it's time so he's standing on the Granger's intimidating front porch with a potted plant for her mother and a six-pack of beer for her father and a big, scary knot in his stomach as he reaches slowly for the bell.


	6. Hours

She stares at the test again.

They hadn't been trying, per se, buy they hadn't _not _been trying either and the last few days she's just felt… different. She knew the spell, of course, but she couldn't believe the result so she'd Apparated back to the local pharmacist and gotten herself an old-fashioned Muggle test. The result had been the same.

She's pregnant.

_Pregnant_. There was a life inside her, only a few days old. Cells, dividing and multiplying. Ectoderm, mesoderm, endoderm. Forming a baby. Their baby.

She'll tell Ron, of course, as soon as he gets home. And then they'll tell the others because this is happy news that deserves to be shared. But for the next few hours, no one in the whole wide world will know but _her_.


	7. Days

She hasn't spoken to him in days. He sits with Harry at the lunch table, covertly watching her.

Why is she by herself? Why doesn't she go sit with Lavender and Parvati? Why doesn't Ginny sit with her? Or even Neville, they seem friendly. She doesn't need to be all by herself, that's not what he wanted.

He inadvertently makes eye contact with her and she looks so sad that his insides twist with guilt. But he's right and she's wrong and until she admits it, there's nothing he can do.


	8. Weeks

He looks good. He'd joked that he'd probably starve to death by the time she got back from her trip to South America but they both know he is really a better cook than she is. He helps her out of the fireplace back into their small apartment and God, she's missed him, his height and his warmth and his easy smile.

He asks how her trip was but she doesn't have the patience for anything like that because it has been weeks since she's seen him and she's on him in a second, knocking him back against the wall and climbing him like an evergreen until she can press her mouth against his.


	9. Months

Two months since he's been gone.

_Since you left_, his mind corrects him.

He's fairly certain Harry is still alive. If The Boy Who Lived had died, everyone would have heard about it, one way or the other.

He doesn't know if _she's_ still alive though and that is the thought that chokes him, that doubles him over in grief and fear, because if that was the last time he ever saw her, Hermione begging him to come back and he still just turned around and _left_, then he doesn't see the point in going on.


	10. Years

"You kissed me."

Ron's brow is furrowed. His hair and face are covered in ash from the battle that finished mere minutes ago and it makes him look older than he is.

"I, um," she says, confused and a little frightened. "Yes, I did."

He stares at her a bit longer, his brow still furrowed, until she starts to feel very uncomfortable. She's about to ask him if he's feeling all right when the smile breaks over his face. There is something wonderful and new in his expression (_love love love he loves you_) and she realizes that the moment she's been waiting for for years is finally here.

"You kissed me," he says again.

"I did," she says. Stronger this time, with no embarrassment.

"Huh," Ron says and bends his head toward her.


	11. Red

"I leave the choice to you."

She'd read up on this process beforehand, of course, and thoroughly analysed all the houses and their various traits. She's a bit confused to be given a choice, she'd always assumed that she'd automatically be sorted into Ravenclaw because it certainly does seem the best fit for her but when she closes her eyes all she sees is red.

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouts and the hall breaks into raucous applause.


	12. Orange

He doesn't understand how she can love that hideous, pug-nosed monstrosity of a cat.

"Look at that thing," he scoffs disdainfully. "It looks like someone mashed its face in with a skillet. Why on earth would you choose such a thing for a pet?"

"Maybe I like orange," she says and then for some reason her face goes very red and she huffs some excuse about the library and storms away.

Ron plucks some cat hair off his shirt – an old Cannons one, his favourite - and thinks that he will never understand girls.


	13. Yellow

She doesn't really like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, even with the truly awful flavours taken out of the equation. There's a few she likes, of course. Raspberry. Strawberry. The ones that candy is _supposed_ to taste like. Maybe it's because she was raised a Muggle, but there's something truly disconcerting about biting into a _candy_ and having it taste like curry or baked beans.

Ron and Harry have no such qualms. They're reaching in for handfuls at a time and stuffing them into their mouths all at once, gagging and laughing when they get an especially atrocious combination.

Ron picks up a yellow bean and examines it, even bringing it close to his nose for a quick sniff. Then he holds it out to Hermione.

She looks at him closely, searching for some sign of a trick but he's not even paying attention to her, he's listening to Harry tell a story about Quidditch. Cautiously, she plucks the candy from Ron's palm and puts it in her mouth.

It's lemon, one of the few that she likes. She stares at him and tries to remember when she ever told him.


	14. Green

Hermione's pregnant and everything is green.

"I can't believe this," Ron says, holding up a pair of green booties with a grimace. "It's a simple test, Hermione, we'll know in two seconds - "

"I don't want to know, Ron," she says patiently. "I want it to be a surprise."

He looks to Harry for help but Harry just shrugs his shoulders. He and Ginny hadn't found out for James either.

Harry and Hermione grin at each other, knowing what is coming next.

"Muggles," Ron says and throws up his hands.


	15. Blue

The sky above the Burrow is as blue as he's ever seen it in his life. Blue with a few fat, puffy clouds that roll across the horizon in a neat little row. Ron lets out a happy sigh and flops back onto the blanket, propping his head on his hands. Hermione gives him a reproachful look, they're supposed to be going over their shopping lists for school, but then she smiles and flops down beside him and he can feel her hair tickling his arm.

They look up at the sky and talk about the clouds. Ron sees monsters or Quidditch players or some sort of food. Hermione sees Muggle things that he's never heard of but that she is always willing to explain to him in her breathless, excited way.

He likes Harry, of course, he's his best mate and he can't wait to see him again. But sometimes, for a while at least, he likes having Hermione all to himself.


	16. Purple

There's a bruise on his back. It's a big one, all purple and black, meaning it's fairly new. It goes from his lower back up and over his ribs towards his chest. It looks painful. She saw it while he was getting changed for bed but she doesn't know how he got it.

She doesn't know how he got it and she can't ask because he just got back and she is still so _furious_ with him that she doesn't trust herself and she is _furious _with herself at how happy she is to see him again. She spends most of that first night in the dark listening to him breathe, her blood running hot then cold, warring between rage and relief.


	17. Brown

It had been a bad argument. Ron had spent the night on the couch and Hermione had spent the night tossing and turning in their bed.

She hears him wake up and start clanking around in the kitchen and she tells herself that she should get up, she should go and talk to him right now before he leaves for work or else she's going to regret it all day. But the front door closes behind him before she can move and the tears from last night well up in her eyes again.

After a quick cry she drags herself up, wrapping her housecoat around her to ward off the chill. She feels so sick she doesn't even want to eat but the coffee maker is burbling away and two crisp pieces of toast pop up from the toaster. She eats and drinks his peace offerings and rearranges her schedule so she can go see him over lunch.


	18. Black

She can't stand to look in the mirror. She doesn't need to, thankfully, she knows from the pitying looks on Harry and Ron's faces that the potion has done the trick.

She can feel the difference anyway. This body is taller, thinner, the limbs longer. The eyelashes are fuller and darker, she can feel them when she blinks. Even the skin feels different. Tighter somehow, constrictive, as if it thinks the body underneath is trying to escape.

She looks down at clenched fists that aren't hers and forces them to open. Some of the long, shiny black hair falls into her eyes and she cringes at the memory of that hair brushing her face and hot breath on her skin.

_Answer me! Crucio!_

She feels the vomit rise in her throat again and swallows hard. Ron is watching her and even through his disguise she can tell that he _knows_ and is sick about it too. When he takes her hand she squeezes it and takes a deep breath.


	19. White

Ron examines himself in the mirror. He's still pretty skinny, he can see most of his ribs, but he looks a bit fuller in the chest and arms lately so that part's probably okay. The problem is he's so _white_. Like a fishbelly. Like a Scandinavian Snow Troll. Who could ever find that attractive?

So the day before Hermione arrives he goes out, shirtless, into the sun until he is pink and itchy all over.

"Oh Ron, you're burnt!" Hermione says when she arrives. She touches his neck, just once, lightly, her fingertips barely grazing him but it's enough to make his skin tingle. She turns pink too, he notices, and he thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he still has a chance.


	20. Colourless

Everything is bleak, the dim lights making everything inside the tent a flat, monotone grey. The wind is howling outside so she doesn't dare leave even though she feels like she's suffocating. Harry has given up any attempts at conversation with her and is morosely staring at the Marauder's Map. She's tired and hungry and dirty and cold and she's so bloody _frustrated_ because she doesn't know what the plan is any more and she doesn't have the first clue as to what they should do next.

She tries to shake off her despair but it's her turn with the locket and the task proves too much.

With no red, everything seems colourless.


	21. Friends

Maybe she's not so bad, Ron grudgingly admits.

She's still a know-it-all, of course, and she can be _very_ annoying a _lot_ of the time but she did take the fall with McGonagall and he knows how much it bothers her to get in trouble, so she deserves some credit for that. And Harry's right, she wouldn't have even been in that bathroom if he hadn't been so mean to her in the first place.

The next morning he and Harry wait in the common room until Hermione comes down the stairs from the girls' dorm. She looks at them questioningly.

"We thought we'd wait for you for breakfast," Ron says. She smiles at him and his stomach does an odd little twist.


	22. Enemies

When Rose comes home at Christmas break and talks about Scorpius Malfoy and how much fun they have together, Ron grips the table so tightly Hermione thinks he's going to snap it in half. He doesn't say anything to Rose, he just smiles and listens politely but Hermione can see the strain it puts on his face.

After the children have gone to bed, Hermione doesn't press the issue. She just curls up in his arms and lets him hold her tightly.

He will never forgive or forget anything about Malfoy Manor, she knows. Not ever.


	23. Lovers

"Do you want the bathroom first?" Ron says, yawning.

"You go ahead," she says.

He stretches and gets off the bed, padding across the room. She watches him, half-covering herself with the bedcover. He's completely naked and that's still very new.

They've done this a few times now but she realizes she's never just _looked_ at him. She's always been far more preoccupied with the tentative, wonderful new things he's doing to her and how they make her feel and the things she's trying to do back to him and whether or not she's doing them properly (she thinks she's at least doing them _okay_, she has heard him utter many things when they've been together but none of them have been _complaints_). Once their clothes are off, they've been wrapped around each other so fast and so tightly that she hasn't ever had a chance to really take a good look at him, not all of him at once.

So she looks now and it makes her blush. In the dim light he looks like something carved out of marble, like the statues she saw on a trip to Rome when she was a young girl. His body is long and lean, his muscles fluid under his skin. His skin is so white it appears to be glowing and she loves that about him, she loves seeing him flush under her fingertips, knowing that she is the cause.

The only thing that breaks the illusion is the brilliant red hair on his head, his legs, under his arms, and the fact that almost every inch of him is covered in faint reddish freckles. Even his -

She bursts out laughing.

"What's funny?" Ron demands.

"Your freckled arse," she says. He frowns at her disapprovingly, then gives said arse a quick jaunty shake in her direction, making her laugh even harder. He grins and ducks out the door.


	24. Family

Hermione peeks out the window to where a swarm of ginger heads mill about, awaiting her arrival. _The Red Sea_, she thinks and lets out a nervous giggle.

"I can't believe the day is finally here," Ginny sighs and fluffs one last bit of Hermione's hair. She turns Hermione to face her and gives her an affectionate smile. "I'll officially have the sister I always wanted."

"Me too," Hermione says. They squeeze each other's hands and then, because she can feel the tears prickling behind her eyes and if she ruins her makeup again Ginny will probably hex her into oblivion, Hermione adds "I do mean Fleur, right?"

Ginny gives her a withering look and they laugh into their bouquets.


	25. Strangers

"We don't keep any money on the premises," Wendell Wilkins says as Ron and Harry lock the door and pull down the shades, "and if it's drugs you're after - "

"We're not trying to rob you, sir," Harry says. The boys come to stand on either side of her and Hermione can feel them looking at her, waiting for her to move.

Her hand shakes as she raises her wand and her father stares at it, fearful and confused.

"Dad," she says.

A glazed look comes over his face and his body sags slightly. "I'm sorry," he says in a faraway voice, "I haven't got any children."

She swears she can hear her heart break. Her wand falters, lowers.

"You can do it," Ron says. "Come on, Hermione."

"Hermione," her father repeats blankly.

Ron puts his hand on her back and it steadies her, grounds her. She raises her wand again, determined.


	26. Teammates

"You're very good, Miss Granger," Slughorn says and pulls Ron to stand beside her. "But let's see how you do when you're handicapped."

It takes Ron a moment to figure out the insult. "Handicapped?" he seethes. "That pompous windbag - "

She doesn't have time to soothe his ego, this potion is a complicated one and they need to get started right away. She takes the lead, of course, but is surprised to find Ron cooperative and, even more surprising, competent. He fetches the ingredients she tells him to, crushes this, stirs that. He is quiet, but she thinks it's just because he's working hard for once instead of his usual slacking off. It's a bit difficult to concentrate with him so close to her, but she manages.

The potion is flawless and they get five points for Gryffindor. She turns to Ron, flushed with pride, but his mouth is set in a hard line and he doesn't talk to her much for the rest of the day.


	27. Parents

He knows them to see them, but he hasn't ever talked much to Hermione's parents so Ron is surprised when the Grangers approach him and Harry after they've helped Hermione get her trunk off the train.

"Hello again, Harry," Hermione's father says and puts out a hand for him to shake. "Enjoy your term?"

Ron deflates a little. Of course they want to talk to Harry. He bets they know all about The Boy Who Lived, Hermione's probably gone on about him all the time -

"And Ron," her mother says, turning to him. "We've heard _so_ much about you this year."

There is an odd twinkle in her eye as she smiles at him and Hermione's father is looking him up and down with a slight frown and crossed arms. Ron doesn't know what to make of it and looks to Hermione for help, but her face is pink and she won't meet his eyes as she hurriedly says goodbye.


	28. Children

Hermione pats Ron's face and he whimpers a little but doesn't open his eyes.

They're supposed to be going to get Dumbledore but Ron will not wake up and she doesn't know what to do. They're only in first year, they've barely learned any healing spells at all and certainly nothing to deal with a situation like this.

It isn't fair, she thinks petulantly. She doesn't understand why this task has fallen to them. Ron shouldn't be sacrificing himself on giant chessboards, she shouldn't be figuring out what potions won't _kill them, _Harry shouldn't be going after Professor Snape all by himself and God only knew what he was going to do when he found him. Why did no one listen to them? They're only in first year and it isn't fair, she just wishes Ron would _wake up_ -

He stirs again and she pats his cheek a little more firmly. His eyelids crack open this time and she's never been so happy to see someone look at her in her whole life.

He gives her a dopey smile, then his face grows confused and his gaze shifts to the chessboard, then back to her, then to her hand on his face. She flushes and quickly removes it.

Ron shakes his head a little and gingerly props himself up on his elbows. "Where's Harry?" he croaks.

She bites her lip and shakes her head.


	29. Birth

Every once in a while Ron hears a howl of anguish and his hand tightens on Hermione's because that's his sister in there and Ginny is not a girl who cries easily.

"I can't stand this," he whispers to Hermione. "How am I supposed to stand this?"

"It's not about you, Ron," Hermione says but she pats his hand kindly. He admires her ability to be serene, he has been an absolute wreck all day. It'll be their turn one day, he thinks, and all he can picture is Hermione with a big rounded belly, trying to keep him calm in the hospital room while he runs around like a chicken with its head off. He snorts.

Another cry from Ginny, a moment of silence, then another piercing cry but it's not Ginny this time, it's someone else. Someone entirely new.

Ron looks at Hermione, stunned. She has tears in her eyes too and throws herself into his shaking arms.


	30. Death

A long time passes before Hermione lifts her head from Ron's shoulder and dabs at her eyes with her sleeve. She doesn't pull away from him though, so Ron stay where he is, with his arm loosely around her shoulder and her soft hair trailing over his fingers.

"He seemed eternal," Hermione says in a thick voice, her eyes glued to the white marble tomb in front of them.

"I know," Ron says and his voice is husky too. He suddenly remembers that he's been crying in front of her and tries to subtly wipe his face.

She notices. "Are you all right, Ron?"

It makes him feel awkward so, as usual, he tries to make a joke. "Sure. Emotional range of a teaspoon, remember?"

She regards him silently for a moment. "You're much more than that," she says quietly and her face is very serious. She's looking at him in a way he has seen only rarely and it makes him feel better, stronger. Like all is not entirely lost.

She drops her head against his shoulder again and he dares to press a kiss into her hair.


	31. Sunrise

The sun creeps its way into the castle. Despite his exhaustion, Ron hasn't slept much because every time he closes his eyes he sees Fred and when he doesn't see Fred, he sees George or his mother or his father or Percy.

But Voldemort is dead too and so is that bitch Lestrange. Harry is sleeping in the bed across from him, looking worn and ragged but very much alive and finally free. Hermione is alive too and in his arms, sleepy-warm against his chest. For propriety's sake (and Harry's, Ron thinks), she is under the blanket while he is on top of it, but as he watches she murmurs something unintelligible and shifts closer to him in her sleep. Her fingers curl into his shirt and Ron wonders how the worst possible day of his life could also be the best.


	32. Sunset

The three of them have showered and eaten and escaped to Gryffindor Tower, to the seventh year boys' dormitory that Harry and Ron never got to use. There is nothing left to do but sleep.

"I guess I should go," Hermione says hesitantly, because she's not sure what she should be doing.

"No," Ron says quickly and blushes. Hermione blushes too and looks down at her feet.

Harry looks between them. "Maybe _I_ should go," he says.

"No," Ron and Hermione say together.

There is a moment of silence, then Ron says "Well don't look at me, I'm definitely not going." Harry gives him a tired grin.

"Look," Hermione says, determinedly focusing on Harry because she's sure her face is as red as its ever been in her whole life and if she looks at Ron right now she might just combust, "I say we all stay here. We're all just going to be sleeping, there won't be anything..._ going on_ - "

"There won't?" Ron says with exaggerated disappointment. "Okay I changed my mind, I'm going to go."

Hermione throws a pillow at him while Harry laughs.


	33. Too Much

The perfume shop is hot and clouded and it makes it hard for Ron to concentrate. How on earth is he supposed to know if something smells good when they spray all the different bottles at once?

He needs a Christmas present for Hermione. Harry is buying her a book and Ron wants to get her something... different. Something she'll remember, something that will stand out.

But there are so many bottles here and the labels on them don't even make sense. _Notes of osmanthus_? _Copaiba balsam_?_ Amber accord_? He's not even sure that's English. The clerk is no help, looking snootily down her nose at him, and no wonder. Teenage boys in hand-me-down robes are probably not her usual customers.

A small, pale bottle catches his eye. _Parchment Passion_, it reads. _The perfect blend of parchment and aged ink that gives books their unmistakable aroma_.

He laughs a bit under his breath because it seems too good to be true. He uncorks the bottle and takes a quick sniff. He is pleasantly surprised, it actually smells quite good. He wouldn't wear it himself, mind, but he thinks that Hermione would like it and he smiles as he pictures the look on her face when she opens it.

He looks at the price tag and his euphoria disappears in an instant. He recorks the bottle and carefully puts it back on its elaborate holder.

At the back of the store there is a box marked "Bargain Bin" in small, embarrassed letters. He reaches in and grabs a bottle at random.

"This one," he says to the clerk, defeated. "I'll take this one."


	34. Not Enough

Everyone in Ron's family has a _thing_. Bill is the cool one, the one they all wanted to be growing up. Charlie is the adventurer, the bold one, afraid of nothing. Annoying as he is being right now, Percy is the smart one, the one going places. Fred and George are the funny ones, always the life of the party. Ginny is the girl and that makes her more special than all of them put together.

Each of his best friends has a _thing_. Harry is, obviously, the Boy Who Lived, the chosen one, and that casts a mighty big shadow that bothers Ron more than he likes to admit.

Hermione is the brightest witch of her age and she's earned that. She's incredibly smart and can quickly and accurately size up situations in a way that makes Ron's head spin. That's why, when he sees the shocked look on her face when he is the one named prefect, not Harry, it stings him more than Harry's carefully concealed resentment and his own family's surprise.

Because she knows he is just Ron. And he knows that will never be enough


	35. Sixth Sense

He is always aware of her and it is becoming a problem.

Hermione had promised Professor McGonagall that she wouldn't tell anyone about the Time-Turner and that she would be very careful not to get caught, but lately Ron is always suspiciously asking _when did you get there_ and _where did you come from_ and _how did you get here_? She doesn't know _how_ he's doing it because she is confident she's always covered her tracks and has always had a suitable explanation, but he seems to know something is up nonetheless.

"Where are you going?" he demands now. "We have Divination next."

_Damn him_. "I know," she says in what she hopes is a casual voice. "I just have to grab something from the dorms, I'll meet you there."

"You'll be late."

She bites back a smile. _No, I won't_. "I'll be there," she says. "I know a shortcut."

Ron scowls and folds his arms as if he doesn't believe a word of it. Luckily for her, Harry _really_ doesn't want to be late for Divination because that usually means that Professor Trelawney singles him out for some particularly gruesome prophecy so he's pulling on Ron's sleeve to get him moving. Ron reluctantly tails after him, although he gives Hermione one last suspicious frown over his shoulder as he does so.

His attention is exasperating but it also puts a flutter in her stomach. It must mean that he cares, she thinks. It _must_.


	36. Smell

"I smelled you."

"I beg your pardon?" Ron says, rather taken aback. They are sitting by the pond at the Burrow, watching the sun go down in what had been comfortable silence.

"In that love potion in sixth year. Slughorn's class, remember?"

"No," Ron says after a moment.

"Amortentia," Hermione says patiently. "The most powerful love potion in the world. It smells differently to each person, depending on what attracts them the most. I smelled freshly mown grass and new parchment, and I smelled you."

"Really," Ron says and his confusion is gone now, replaced by swelling pride.

"I was in such denial about you back then." She blushes a little. "I tried so hard to tell myself that you were just my friend and that I was happy with that, that it was enough. But then I smelled you in that potion and I couldn't pretend any more. After all, it was right there in the textbook."

She says it so straight-faced that Ron has to laugh. "You're nutters, you know?" he says but what he means is that she's perfect and he loves her.

"I know." She smiles and tilts her chin at him and he knows she wants him to kiss her, so he does.


	37. Sound

Ron hovers over her at Shell Cottage and the horrified look on his face tells her just how bad a shape she's really in. Fleur flits around her too, muttering spells, but nothing she's doing can touch this pain, _nothing_, because it isn't in her body, it's in in her mind. Something is still very _wrong_ with her and it's terrifying.

"I could hear you," Ron says in a raspy voice. "But I couldn't get to you. Hermione…" His voice tails off as the tears fill his eyes again and he doesn't try to hide them.

She remembers his voice now, muffled and far away, but still there through the screaming and chaos and pain. She had clung to it so desperately, as she does now.

"I could hear you too," she says. "It made me stronger."

It takes everything she has left but she reaches for him and he takes her hand delicately, as if she's made of glass.


	38. Touch

"Brrrr..." Hermione says and rubs her arms.

"Cold?" Ron says, his eyes never leaving the chessboard where they are locked in battle. She's doing surprisingly well this game and he has to concentrate a little more than usual.

"I guess I'll go up and get a sweater," Hermione says and sighs.

"Okay," Ron says. He's not cold at all, in fact he just took his sweater off. It's sitting on the ground between them.

When Ron looks up Hermione is staring at him rather pointedly. "What?" he says.

"Nothing," Hermione says. "I'm just chilly."

"So go upstairs and -"

"I am _trying_ to play chess!" she snaps and Ron jumps.

He looks around the room. "Do you want my sweater?" he says.

"Oh, well, if you don't need it," she says.

"No, it's fine." He hands the sweater to her and her fingers slide over his for the briefest of moments. He tells himself that the jolt he feels is just static electricity, but he can't stop staring as she pulls the sweater on over her head. When she gives him a shy smile as she tries to smooth down her hair, he thinks that his Mum's knitting has never looked so good.

Flustered, he looks back down at the chessboard and makes a random move.


	39. Taste

Given the task they are about to undertake, Ron's shift in behaviour is pleasantly distracting.

She knows something is different when he immediately takes her into his arms when she arrives at the Burrow, despondent over her parents. Over the next few weeks he dotes on her and, she would swear, _flirts _with her despite the teasing comments he gets from the twins. He is quick to put an arm around her, compliments her on the smallest things, and dances with her at Bill and Fleur's wedding in front of everyone, all the while looking at her like she is the only person in the room.

When they lie awake in Grimmauld Place, shaken by the night and by what lies ahead, he wordlessly takes her hand and they fall asleep together as if it they had been doing it for years.

She is more certain than ever of his feelings for her and for the first time, she can really see what it would be like to be with him. How he would treat her, how it would make her feel. It makes her giddy to think that the real thing would be even better, that what she's getting right now is just a taste of how things could be.

And it hurts because she knows it's all she's going to get.

She watches Harry quietly creep out of the room and she knows that anything with Ron is going to have to wait, that there are other things (_her heart refuses to call them more important even though her mind insists they are) _that need to be dealt with first. But for now, for the next few minutes, she laces her fingers back together with his.


End file.
